Trans Pacifica

Chapter 4

(Pacifica) went up to the attic at 8:30. "Hey, Dipper," she said, "Wendy won't be in today. Dentist's appointment or something. She called just now, so you can go look for your spiders any time."

"Shoot," Dipper muttered, closing the Journal he had been reading. "Okay. I'll be out east, along the river bank south of the lake, if she comes in and wants to call me."

"I'll be sure to tell her."

Dipper put on his backpack and clattered down the stairs. (Pacifica) followed. She watched him get on his bike and ride off. Now if only he didn't meet Wendy on her way in—but then Wendy was coming from the other direction, and if Dipper got to the turn just a half-mile away before she did, they'd miss each other. And from what Mabel had told her, Wendy was pretty casual about coming in on time.

(Pacifica) hurried back to the gift shop and left a Post-It note on the cash register, printed sloppily: Wendy, Mabel needs some help up in the attic. Thanks! Dipper.

That done, (Pacifica) went first to Mabel's bedroom, where she dug out a few bandanas from one of the bureau drawers. Then she hurried upstairs, opened the closet, and unrolled the carpet. She retrieved the handcuffs that Stanley Pines had brought home the previous summer after a run-in with a couple of Federal agents—Dipper had claimed them and had hung them up in the attic as a decoration.

At a minute before nine, (Pacifica) went out onto the landing and successfully handcuffed herself, hands behind her back. She heard a car pulling into the parking lot—had to be Wendy. (Pacifica) shuffled her feet over the carpet, building up an electrostatic charge, and then lay down in the center.

A minute later she heard Wendy's voice downstairs: "Mabel? You up there, dude?"

"Yeah!" (Pacifica) called. "Help, please!"

Wendy's boots clomped up the stair, and the redhead came into sight. "What're you doin' layin' there?"

"Dipper handcuffed me! He didn't want me to go with him to the river. Get me up, Wendy!"

"Sure."

But as Wendy bent down and touched her—

ZAP!

(Pacifica) was ready for it, and a second later, in Wendy's body, she jumped up. (Wendy), now in Mabel's body, was blinking in confusion. Before she could yell, (Pacifica) had gagged her with two of the bandanas. "I'm sorry about this, but I've just got to find out something from Dipper. I'm gonna put you in this closet, but I promise I'll be back just as soon as I can."

(Wendy) was growling—obviously mad—and (Pacifica) quickly rolled up the rug, then stashed it. She tied (Mabel's) ankles together and picked her up—wow, Wendy is really strong! she thought—and tucked her comfortably in the closet, next to the rolled-up carpet.

Then downstairs. Wendy's car was parked outside, but (Pacifica) doubted that she could drive it. However—

Soos was unlocking the museum. She said, "Soos, man, I just got a call from Dipper. He's captured something out in the woods and wants Mabel and me to go help him. OK if I take some time off?"

"Uh, sure, Wendy," Soos said. "Tuesdays are slow anyways. Melody can cover for you until you dudes get back."

"OK if I take the golf cart? We'll probably have to go off-road."

"Sure. Keys are hangin' behind the counter."

She had to search for them, but finally she spotted them. She also crumpled and pocketed the note. "Mabel's already outside. See you in a few."

"Have fun."

It felt a little heady to be out in Wendy's body. (Pacifica) sort of enjoyed the sensation of being tall and slender—it gave her a whole new perspective, in a way. She fired up the golf cart and then took off, heading across country toward the part of the river where Dipper was exploring. It was a jouncy ride, and she had to detour around thickets and avoid steep hills, but she figured she should be in the general area within half an hour or so. Now if she could just locate Dipper . . . .


In the closet, (Wendy) was fuming. She squirmed and tried pulling her handcuffed wrists down low enough so she could pull her legs through and maybe untie her ankles—she could have done it in her own body, but Mabel's shorter arms made it impossible. She wondered what Mabel was up to—it wasn't like her to trick a friend like that. And though Mabel had told her of their adventures with the carpet (and she vividly remembered walking in on Soos when it looked as if he had lost his mind completely—turned out it was only Waddles in his body, as Mabel had told her)—though she remembered all that, (Wendy) had not had first-hand experience with body-swapping before.

"Grrrr!" If she could only get the cuffs off—but Mabel's hands were too big to slip out of their grip. The closet was stuffy and dusty, and the dust tickled her nose and made her eyes itch. She rolled onto her back and raised her butt off the floor. Now if she could just . . . bend . . . her . . . knees . . . .

The effort creaked her shoulder joints and made her elbows ache, but she got her bound wrists down to her heels. She pulled her knees even tighter against her—Dang it, if Mabel didn't eat so much candy, I could probably do this easy!—and slowly, slowly managed to pull her heels through, and then her hands were in front of her—still manacled, but in a useful position. She reached up and yanked the bandana down, then spat out the one that had been crammed in her mouth. She managed to untie the hard knot in the other bandana, the one binding her ankles, then turned, fumbled for the doorknob, and got the closet door open.

Keys.

Stanley Pines had a set somewhere—Dipper had taken the cuffs, so he probably had the keys, too. (Wendy) went into the attic bedroom and started looking in drawers. I forgot what it felt like to be this short, she thought. Probably because the last time I was this short, I was, like, six years old!

Aha! There were two strong-looking but small keys on a silvery ring. She retrieved them—and realized she couldn't reach the handcuff locks. Unless—

(Wendy) clambered onto Dipper's bed—Man, the dude nearly died that time he laid on my bra! He'd have like an aneurysm if he knew I was in his bed!—and got the key in her mouth, gripping it with her teeth. She slipped it into the lock, but turning it was beyond her. However, more than one way to skin a cat and all that junk, so she carefully went to the desk and managed to trap the head of the key in the space between the top desk drawer and the left leg of the desk. Then, turning her wrists until the cuffs cut into them, she persisted until she heard a sharp click and the cuffs sprang open.

Okay. Now to find out what Mabel was up to. And the best way to do that, she thought, was to find Dipper. (Wendy) closed the closet door on the landing and then hurried down the stairs, nearly tripping herself up—Mabel has really stubby legs!

She saw Soos and said, "Hey, dude, know where I—where Wendy is?"

He looked at her in surprise. "Hambone! I thought you went out with her on the golf cart to find Dipper!"

"I guess she forgot me." (Wendy) went behind the counter and retrieved her cell phone from the shelf where she always parked it, along with her car keys. "I'll just have to catch up with her."

"Is something going on?"

"What gave you that idea?" she snapped before running out of the Shack.

Great. She had a car, she had her keys—and she had legs too short to work the pedals! (Wendy) punched Dipper's number into her phone and waited impatiently as she heard the rings.

"Wendy!"

"Dipper, dude!"

"Mabel?"

"Wendy!"

"You sound just like Mabel!"

"I know, man! 'Cuz I'm in her body!"

"Whose body?"

"Mabel's!"

"I thought you said you were Wendy!"

"Dude, focus! Remember that electron carpet you guys got all messed up with?"

"Oh—oh, no. You and Mabel—did you accidentally—"

"Mabel switched us on purpose! I don't know why!"

"She told me you had a dentist's appointment today!"

"That's a lie! What's with Mabel, Dip? She never lies!"

"I don't know!"

"Look, dude, where are you?"

Dipper told her. (Wendy) said, "If I could drive, I could be there in ten minutes. With these short little legs, it'll take an hour to get there!"

"Wendy! Your old bike is still in the shed," Dipper said. "You could ride it!"

"Yeah, I guess I could. Okay, Dipper, I'll be there ASAP. You wait near the road and watch for me. But remember, I look like Mabel, OK?"

"Man, that carpet ought to be burned!"

"NOT YET!" she yelled.

A minute later she was pumping the pedals of her old bike. The tires were a little squashy, but then Mabel didn't weigh as much as she did, and (Wendy) was pretty sure they'd hold out.

On the other hand, Mabel's short legs meant that she couldn't actually sit on the bike seat. This was going to be an uncomfortable trip . . . .


"Father," (Mabel) said, "I really ought to go over to the Mystery Shack because—"

"A focus group!" Preston said. He and Pacifica—well, Pacifica's body, anyway—were in the back seat of the limo, heading for neutral ground. He did not want to meet Fiddleford McGucket in his house, because McGucket's house used to be Northwest's house, and it would be awkward, so they'd arranged on the phone to meet at the library, where they could have a conference room to themselves. Wellington drove with his usual quiet competency. "A focus group is what we need. I'll put my secretary to work immediately to round up a group of typical long-haul truck drivers—you know, moronic mouth-breathers. We'll get a professional artist to do concept images of a few dozen sample flaps and see which ones they like. Pacifica, this is a great idea!"

"But I really don't need to be there, you know?" (Mabel) said. She hoped that Pacifica wouldn't get too antsy in the shack. They'd planned to meet around noon, and it was already half-past nine.

They had already passed the Gravity Falls town-limit sign when Wellington suddenly jammed on the brakes. "Wellington!" Preston Northwest said sternly. "Be careful, man!"

Wellington's calm voice sounded as casual as it had when he was serving dinner: "Sorry, sir. The young lady on the bicycle shot right across the road."

"Hey! That's me!" (Mabel) yelped, looking at the rapidly receding girl on the bike.

"What's you?" Preston asked in an irritated tone.

"Uh, I mean—" With a sudden inspiration, (Mabel) put on a Cockney accent: "That's me ol' chumlette Mabel Pines on that bicycle, that is! Eh, wot!"

"Whoever it is, she should watch where she's going," grumbled Preston.

They got to the library, (Mabel) explained to Fiddleford the kind of technology they were looking for, and Fiddleford—who was more neatly groomed these days and looked more like an absent-minded professor than a wild-eyed hillbilly—scratched his shorter beard thoughtfully. "That sounds feasible, I reckon. An' if you're thinkin' volume, the price point could be quite reasonable, too. By cracky."

"Sir, I like the way you think," Preston said. "Well, if my daughter could do it and survive, I suppose I can, too. Shake on the deal?"

Preston only winced a little when Fiddleford spat in his palm prior to the handshake.

He was still frantically pumping hand sanitizer when the limo started back toward the Northwest house. At the intersection where Mabel Pines had shot past on the bike, (Mabel) insisted on getting out. "I'll be home soon, Father," she said.

"Call me 'Dad,' money. I mean honey," Preston said, not even looking up from the calculator where he was estimating profits.

(Mabel) jogged in the direction that the bicyclist had gone. She tapped Dipper's phone number into Pacifica's phone.

"Pacifica?" Dipper asked as soon as he answered.

"Mabel!"

"OK," Dipper groaned. "You are in Pacifica Northwest's body, right?"

"Right!"

"And Wendy is in your body, right?"

"Ri—wha-wha-WHAT?"

"I see Wendy coming now—except she's you. I mean your body. Where are you?"

(Mabel) told him.

"Okay, we're gonna head back along the road toward you. You come and meet us. If you see Wendy driving the golf cart, that's really Pacifica. Hi, Mab—Wendy."

Weirdly, (Mabel) heard her own voice coming back at her over the phone—she couldn't understand the words, but the tone sounded mad.

And then Dipper said, "Let's start back this way, and I'll try to explain. Except I'm not sure I even understand it. Mabel, you still there? No, Wendy, I'm talking on the phone to Mabel—no, not her, the Mabel you saw wasn't Mabel—no, not like the shapeshifter—Mabel? Look, come and meet us. We'll have to find Pacifica and straighten this mess out!"